


A Break

by RenaRoo



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2003), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-22 15:41:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9614618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RenaRoo/pseuds/RenaRoo
Summary: How do you heal a break? Can you fix it alone?A moment between two brothers after the horrors of the Shredder's Strike Back





	

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This fic is originally from 2010 when I was going through a bad time and made a secondary ffnet account called MySynonym thinking no one liked me/took me seriously on the account I had (and have maintained) since 2005. It didn’t last very long, but I do like the growth in my writing that can be seen!
> 
> [2010 original author’s notes] Hello there. I’m MySynonym and this is the first fanfic I’m putting up. So I hope you guys like it. This takes place at the farm after Leo is injured in the 2003 cartoon before the “Monster Hunter” episode.

He hid himself in the darkness, quietly. Ever so quietly. The only noise was that of his own breath, his own heart beating. When he closed his eyes the throbbing in his ears pulsed stronger, more fearfully. 

He felt the snow, lightly falling from the opened wounds of the barn roof, gather upon his skin, lingering on his cold blooded scales. 

It was all so very much like that day of darkness. He could never evade that night. It ran through his mind step by step as if he was reliving the harmless morning run which went terribly, terribly wrong. 

The snow fell around him. He could sense it like the many bodies surrounding him, slashing at him, slicing through him as if he were nothing. 

His eyes opened as the door creaked. 

“Leo, are you in here again?”

Donatello entered the barn with a certain amount of caution. His eyes darted around in the dark, slowly opening the door wider and wider.

Light poured through the breach, causing Leonardo to squint and move back from the brightness. It was only once Don closed the door behind him that Leo could look his brother face to face. 

Don was standing with a grasp on a small box’s handle. His expression was strangely unreadable for Leo.

“There you are,” Don spoke up as he neared his brother. 

Leonardo did not respond. His eyes shifted back to the shadows, gazing over the heaps of scrap wood and metal scattered throughout the dirty barnyard. He hoped that the less he paid attention the more likely Don would be to leave him alone. 

Instead, Donatello knelt beside him and rested the metal medicine box on his knee before opening it. 

The blue clad brother sighed. 

“I’m just going to change some of your bandages and check that cast on your arm,” Don explained as he began to shake a spray bottle of alcohol. “Shouldn’t take too long. Has anything been hurting?”

 _Yes,_ Leonardo thought before looking to his feet.

There were so many scars he was now going to have; so many reminders of his mistakes from that day. He should have never been so easily taken down. He should not have _failed._

He should not have been so weak.

“Lift your head up some, Leo,” Don spoke as he stood up and gently cut through the bandages on his shoulder. “It’s not going to hurt that bad.”

Swallowing dryly, Leo sighed. “I’m sorry.”

Don paused as he spayed the small wound quietly. “Don’t be,” he replied warmly before rewrapping it. “I’m most worried about that break. Have you ahd any trouble with it at all?”

Eyes shifting to Don, Leo let out a grunt and shook his head. “No, I haven’t bothered it much.”

“You haven’t?” he questioned before moving to the gash on Leo’s right thigh, bending over to see if he had bled through the bandage. “That doesn’t sound too much like the Leonardo I know. You’re usually trying to operate at full capacity when you’re running on empty.”

Leonardo opted not to answer. Instead, he watched his brother with disinterest, allowing Don to work on the wounds as if they did not belong to him at all.

“I don’t usually talk out of turn, Leo,” Don said quietly before straightening yet again, looking Leo in the eyes, “but I have to say something about how you’ve been acting.”

In response, the leader merely blinked dully. He had heard the speech from nearly everyone at that point. He certainly had heard it enough that he no longer cared for it or was surprised. 

“I’m worried about you,” the medic continued, a grove working its way upon his eye ridges, shaking his head. “Can you blame me?”

“I don’t think you need to be worrying about me,” Leo muttered as he looked away, allowing Don to work with his arm. He flinched at the pain surging through the appendage. “I don’t think anybody needs to be.”

Shaking his head, Don showed his brother that he did not care for the response. “You’re lucky with this break, Leo,” he informed his brother. “It’s just a small fracture and will heal fairly soon _if_ it’s taken care of.”

“It was weak then,” Leo growled to himself.

“No, it was strong,” Don corrected him. “Sometimes a single bone is brittle, though. Especially when it needs help and doesn’t receive any.”

“But it was too weak when it needed to be strong alone,” Leonardo persisted. “So it’ll have to learn to heal on its own, too.”

A sad look grew on Don’s face. he seemed to gaze through Leo’s eyes, deeper than his surface. “Is that your thought process? It failed so it has to be alone? It has to be punished?”

“I don’t know what my thought process is,” Leo replied lowly, a sense of remorse coming over him. “I worry about breaking the bone again when it’s healed. Maybe it will even break when it’s actually needed for others.”

Scowling as he realized what was happening, Leonardo turned on his heels and shook his head. He was not going to argue with Don. He did not expect him or anyone else to understand. 

Sighing, Don scooped up his medic kit again and moved toward the door. “Your arm needs to be taken care of, Leo,” he warned. “I just don’t think it can do it alone.”

Silently, Leonardo remained where he stood, his eyes closed. He hid himself in the darkness, quietly. Ever so quietly. The only noise was that of his own breath, his own heart beating. When he closed his eyes, the throbbing in his ears pulsed stronger, more fearfully.

The feeling of snow pelting his skin yet again numbed him from reality. 

His heart’s pounding overwhelmed all else that he heard except for one bleak sigh and the closing of the barn.


End file.
